This novella is a work of fiction. Anysimilarities to real people, places, or events are strictly coincidental. Thisbook may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the expressedpermission of the author.

The display window for the downtown Nordstrom’s was adorned in pinks, yellows,and flowers. It was a Mother’s Day shopping weekend and it appeared that Ryan Stewartwasn’t the only person who’d saved his shopping until the last minute.

"Try our new scent," the salesgirl announced as she spritzedthe air.

Ryan coughed and moved out of her field of vision. His mother had veryparticular tastes. He had spent years trying to buy her the perfect present,but she always wanted the same old thing: a new necklace. Therefore, he wastaking the easy way out this year.

"Can I help you?" another salesclerk asked.

"Yeah, where are your necklaces?" Ryan asked.

"We have a wide selection of necklaces. They’re dispersedthroughout the store, but most can be found in our jewelry section. Are youlooking for something affordable, or a little higher end?"

"Higher end?" Ryan frowned. Unless he was mistaken, he was atNordstrom’s. Not Martin Katz.

"Correct. We have pieces that fit every budget.”

"Oh. I don’t know. I don’t know how expensive she usually goes.Actually, now that I think about it…I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen herweara necklace..."

"The salesclerk, whose name-tag read ‘Mary, laughed. "Thenmaybe you shouldn’t buy her a necklace," she suggested.

"Oh no," Ryan held his hands up in protest, "I’m buyingher a necklace. Trust me. It’s the only thing she wants. It was a long lessonto learn."

Mary laughed. "Okay, so a necklace it is. Do you need anything foryour mother, or…your wife?"

"My wife?" Now it was Ryan’s turn to laugh. "I’m notmarried."

"Girlfriend then?" Mary continued.

"Nah. My girlfriend doesn’t have any kids." Ryan noticed thedisappointed look on Mary’s face at the realization that he had a girlfriendand smiled to himself. He liked the fact that this girl who knew nothing abouthim was flirting with him. It happened more often since he’d cut his hairshort. It also seemed that more girls were interested in him since he’d gottena girlfriend. Go figure.

Ryan hadn’t been dating Sophia very long, but things seemed to be goingwell. They’d met at a small production company where Ryan had interned over thesummer after high school. They became friends right away, and after awhile, aromantic relationship seemed like the most logical next step.

Thoughts of Sophia reminded Ryan that he was supposed to be meeting herfor lunch that afternoon. He looked down at his watch and saw that if he endedthis sales transaction quickly, he just might make it in time.

"How about this one?" Ryan grabbed a gold plated necklace offof the closest display counter and held it up for Mary to see. “It's nice,right?”

"That’s actually a display one…" Mary looked for a purchasableone on a nearby rack.

"So it’s not for sale?" Ryan was impatient.

"Well don’t you want a new one?"

"It still has the tag on it,” Ryan observed.

Mary looked the necklace over and made sure it had no majorimperfections before ringing it up and giving it to Ryan. With little more thana ‘thank you’, Ryan was out of the store in a hurry and on his way to his mother’s.Before his feet hit the sidewalk, however, his cell phone started ringing. Itwas Sophia.

Ryan had completely forgotten that he was actually supposed to be takinghis mother to lunch. His plan was to drop off the necklace and rush across townto meet Sophia, but he made an abrupt decision to take his mother out when itwas actually mother’s day.

"No. She won’t mind." Ryan didn’t bother adding that his motherhad no knowledge of their plans for lunch.

Free of his afternoon engagements, Ryan didn’t bother to rush. He tookhis time as he drove through the streets of his hometown. When he finally madeit to his mother’s house, she was outside on the porch.

"Oh, I’m so glad you came by. I’ve been calling you allmorning." Ryan’s mother seemed frantic.

"Why? What’s going on?" Ryan’s forehead creased with concern.

"A very official looking letter came for you this morning. I didn’topen it, because it’s addressed to you. It came certified."

"I haven’t lived here for years, Mom. Why am I still getting mailhere?"

Ms. Stewart handed her son the envelope and stood in front of himwringing her hands as she waited to find out what was in the letter.

"Well?" she asked when Ryan finished reading and folded it up.

"I have to go downtown. Something about a time sensitive matter,” Ryanoffered.

"About what?"

"I guess I’ll find out on Monday."

"Did they just contact you or did they contact Grace as well?"

"I don’t know."

Ryan hadn’t spoken to Grace, the mother of his now adopted child, since they’dgraduated high school almost eight years ago. He’d tried to look her up oncelast year but had been unsuccessful. To his knowledge, she had never tried tocontact him.

Grace’s apartment was finally showing signs of cleanliness as sheseparated her clothes from her roommate’s. Thank goodness for the weekends. Tyra,Grace’s roommate, always went home to see her boyfriend on the weekends, leavingGrace an entire two days to recuperate from her slovenly living habits.

It had been such a busy week for Grace at work, thus, she’d neglectedher own cleaning as well. She was just now getting to do her laundry, and onlybecause a lack of clean bathroom towels reminded her that she hadn’t done it.

"Hey, Grace, are you going out tonight?" Grace’s secondroommate, Fletcher, asked. He was quite a partier and Grace was glad to havemade his acquaintance. He got her out on the town and mingling with her peersat least three times a month. That was a lot for her.

"Not tonight. I’m so behind on everything. And that includessleep,” Grace answered back.

"You can sleep later."

"Thisislater. Trust me."

Sensing the finality of her tone, Fletcher didn’t try to coax her anymore. Pushing past him, Grace made her way back into the living room andoccupied herself with a book and a can of diet soda until her load of laundrywas done. It was her hope that the caffeine would keep her awake long enoughfor her to complete the rest of her chores.

Just when the details were getting juicy in her book, Grace heardsomeone enter her apartment behind Fletcher and looked up to see who it was.

"Hey Grace."

Grace stared into the smiling face of Marshall Campbell. It was a guyshe’d gone out with once when she was feeling lonely. It was one of the biggestmistakes she’d made in a long time. Not only did they have nothing in common,but Marshall’s obsession with conspiracy theories and the occult terrified Grace.

"Oh, hi, Marshall." Grace tried to quickly turn her attentionback to her book, but Marshall took a seat next to her and proceeded to talk.

"So what are you doing this weekend?" he asked.

"Just catching up,” Grace answered without looking up.

"On what?"

"Life."

Marshall laughed…at what Grace wasn’t sure.

"Well would you maybe like some company while you do that?" heasked.

It took Grace a moment to comprehend that Marshall was asking her out…again.Turning someone down gently was a skill she’d lost back in high school, but shetried her best.

"Actually, being social is what got me into this mess in the firstplace, so I think I’d better go solo this time. Thanks anyway, though." Gracesmiled.

"There’s this badass Screamfest film festival going on down at theCivic Center until midnight. Wanna go to that?" Marshall continued.

"I’m not free this weekend, Marshall. Sorry." Grace lookedover at the laundry room as if willing the washing machine to miraculously washand dry her clothes at the same time. No such luck. She was stuck with Marshallfor the duration of the spin cycle and beyond.

As Grace dragged herself away from Marshall and the living room, shestopped outside to check the mail. An official looking manila envelope caughther eye. It was from her parents. Grace sighed upon seeing the Thompson mailinglabel affixed to the upper right hand corner. She tossed the envelope on herdesk in her bedroom. She was in no mood to deal with mama and papa Thompson.

Grace’s relationship with her parents had been strained ever since she decidedto go to a liberal arts graduate school instead of pursing law and taking thebar. It was so bad that her father had all but stopped talking to her. Hermother tried to play Switzerland, but even she was short and distant with herdaughter.

Grace’s parents kept telling her that she was destined to be poor andunaccomplished due to her career choice. Money and prestige. That’s all theycared about. What aboutliving?It was something Grace felt she’d neverdone until now.

Now, she was living for herself. Not anyone else.

Grace’s cell phone began to buzz and jolt as it rang. She picked it up.Her parent’s telephone number was displayed on the screen. She frowned andlooked over at the envelop before she answered.

"Grace? Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you allafternoon." Her mother sounded anxious.

The frantic sound of her mother’s voice kept Grace from reminding herthat she no longer possessed the authority to question Grace’s whereabouts.

"Is everything okay?" Grace asked.

"I was going to ask you the same question. Did you get the letterwe forwarded to you?"

Grace looked over at the envelop on her desk.A forwarded letter?

As if hearing Grace’s thoughts, her mother continued, "You got aletter here from the adoption agency. That’s what we sent to you."